Jane Pratt, Worst Mom In The World: Fart-in-Your-Kid's-Face Edition

I can't believe my child was a whole 9 years of age before I'd ever held her down and farted in her face!
Publish date:
March 28, 2012
kids, worst mom in the world, sugar, farts, Little Bites, sugar highs

This is actually a two-parter, all achieved within the last 12 hours (LOVE when I can be a bad mom in two distinct ways in one day-part). First, as this photo illustrates: Wake up, kid! Breakfast's ready!

Now I wouldn't serve this morning crack every day (only until every store in the neighborhood runs out of stock), but here's the brilliant thing about them, if you are not yet clued in to these Entenmann's wonders: After a couple of packs of these little crack-brownie treasures, I've never seen a happier, more sugar(number one ingredient, oc)-hyped kid packing up her backpack and hopping off to school.

Breakfast can take a lot of forms in my world and I justify this one because there is actually some whole wheat flour and egg in there somewhere. So some of the same ingredients in a much-better-for-the-environment-and-kid-but-wake-up-TEN-minutes-earlier-to-prepare-for-a-much-less-willing-to-eat-it-kid breakfast. Her godfather, who taught her the term "partially-hydrogenated fats" when he saw her eating a Snickers bar once, will not be happy about this. Happy mom, sugary happy child, I say! (At least when they are off at school as they have the sugar crash.)

Part Deux:

I can't believe my child was a whole 9 years of age before I'd ever held her down and farted in her face! How time flies and a reminder to seize these special moments with your kids as often as you can, parents! No one ever lay on their death bed wishing they'd spent more time at the office, REMEMBER?

Last night, after we chased out the babysitter and I finished my last work call, we were able finally to begin our handstand-on-my-bed competition, and then wrestling, at which point, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, we both experienced the joy of legitimately pinning the other one, straddling her face and farting.

A rite of passage, a milestone, a memory to treasure forever that I feel like is too often reserved for fighting brothers and maybe some lucky Cub Scouts. Or have you, in fact, been held down and intentionally farted on? And how did you like it?

Aw, feel free to share with me any of your own stories of farting, junk food or anything else this reminds you of or just remind me that I am in fact the WMITW! XOXO and have a great day

One more thing: When we were kids, my family called farts "prits." I never learned the origin of this.If you follow me on Twitter @JanePratt, you can enjoy this farting stuff AS IT IS HAPPENING.